


Todestrieb

by slotumn



Category: Fire Emblem: Fuukasetsugetsu | Fire Emblem: Three Houses
Genre: Asphyxiation, Character Study, Childhood Trauma, Consensual Non-Consent, F/M, Introspection, Near Death Experiences, Non-Explicit Sex, is there a tag for death fetish, no beta we die like Glenn
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-05-16
Updated: 2020-05-16
Packaged: 2021-03-03 02:35:19
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 604
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24217492
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/slotumn/pseuds/slotumn
Summary: He figured it was some sort of coping mechanism; he didn't actually want to die, of course, but everyone had at least one childhood trauma that eventually developed into a weird sexual fetish, right? Right. And his just so happened to be the constant threat of death. So now he jerked off while imagining himself in desperate, dangerous situations with no way out.Totally normal.A.K.A. In which Claude has a death fetish.
Relationships: Lysithea von Ordelia/Claude von Riegan
Kudos: 11





	Todestrieb

In real life, he never took unnecessary risks, holding a million contingency plans up his sleeve so that even worst case scenarios wouldn't result in the ultimate loss-- death.

In his fantasies, he died a thousand ways, from poisons to blades to suffocations to falling, and he always came the hardest as he thought of the exact moment when it would be too late to turn back, when the chance of survival would drop to zero.

He figured it was some sort of coping mechanism; he didn't actually want to die, of course, but everyone had at least one childhood trauma that eventually developed into a weird sexual fetish, right? Right. And his just so happened to be the constant threat of death. So now he jerked off while imagining himself in desperate, dangerous situations with no way out. 

Totally normal, especially considering Lysithea went along with it, using wind magic to knock the air out of his lungs while roughly pulling on his shaft, the combination almost as intense as the moments when his wyvern hurtled to the ground after being hit by an arrow. It didn't happen nowadays, since he used the Aurora Shield for protection, but whenever he needed extra kick to the fantasy, he always recounted those close calls and let his imagination run wild on how it could have gone worse. 

"Ah...hah..."

His lungs and eyes burned once she released and let him breathe again, the high and fireworks still filling in his head as he unloaded all over her hands. 

"Are you alright?" she asked once he came back, as she always did.

"Yeah," he'd always reply, "it feels great."

By "it," he mostly meant being alive. 

\---

His first encounter with an assassin was as if a nightmare had followed him into real life. He was laying in his bed, unable to move or call for help because of something that was in his food earlier. His eyes could barely move in the sockets, forcing his blotchy, filtered gaze to be fixed on the wall that only showed vague shifting shadows, even though he could feel with every inch of his skin that something else-- a threat-- was in the room.

He couldn't remember what tool the assassin had back then, but right now, Lysithea was pressing a cold "blade" (a letter opener) against his neck as she rode him. The immobilizing spell also distorted his vision so that everything looked fucked up, but even then, he thought she was still beautiful in an abstract, macabre kind of way, shadow and highlights from the candle flame dancing across her face and body as she moved and squeezed around him.

Was this what enemies saw before she killed them, he wondered, finishing inside while he still couldn't make out her expression. 

She walked out of his sight afterwards, leaving him frozen and immobilized and simmering in the familiar chill of being face to face with death (or at least its harbinger) for a while, before--

_Snap!_

And then he was gone. 

\---

When he woke up again, his arms were wrapped around her as usual, as if they just had regular sex and not...whatever the hell that could be called. 

"Claude," she said, upon feeling him shift around. 

"Yeah?"

"You don't actually want to die, right."

Her voice was oddly calm, as if expecting to hear something she didn't want. 

"Of course I don't," he muttered, ruffling her hair. "I'm actually extremely obsessed with staying alive, in case you haven't noticed."

"...That's good."

But it a way, he supposed that obsession with life was also obsession with death. 

**Author's Note:**

> [LysiClaude week twitter](https://twitter.com/LysiClaudeWeek?s=20)  
>   
> [My twitter](https://twitter.com/slotumn?s=09)  
>   
> This is the 100th fic in Lysithea/Claude tag. Not sure whether to feel proud or what.


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